challenge
by hatsuhomo
Summary: Desna challenges Bolin to a fight - however, the results are now what he expected. Bolin x Desna. Slash. Light fluff.


The dark strands of his bangs seemed to spill over his face, briefly obscuring his eyesight, disorienting the youth more than being knocked to the ground had —- He attempted to recount the events that lead to this _awkward_ positioning, pinned underneath the weight of another male;

The dizzy spell that took over his body began to lift, rough fingers dusting the hair out of his face and lingering for 2 seconds longer than Desna would've liked. He faced Bolin, who's face was muddled with deep concern, dark brows furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked like a cornered animal.

"Remove yourself from me!" Desna's tone was sharp and thin, cracking briefly, reflective of his near total absence of socialization; this caused him to become immediately embarrassed with his voice, and produced a squirm. His stomach twisted as more of his situation came to light.

They had been fighting, and it was over faster than the boy could process. Specifically, Desna wanted to demonstrate how superior water-bending was compared to earth, and it was going exactly as planned, but…

_'I kept getting distracted by his idiotic face… My calculations were... Erroneous...' _The rest of the scene played out rather dramatically. It took only one upheaval of water with the wrong trajectory to send a rather large stalagmite behind Desna, which collided with the now broken statue that decorated the floor. Bolin had tackled him out of the way, attempting to protect him from the debris that Desna was so blissfully unaware of. His own arrogance almost killed him! Remembering these facts created a twisting sensation in his stomach, and brought him back into the current situation. Bolin was still hovering over him, rather shakily, hands pressed against Desna's thin, wispy arms.

It was also in this moment that Desna realized the rather copious amounts of blood gliding down the squared surface of Bolin's face. '_He's injured, and I am to blame! He got hurt in his attempts to defend me!'_

The embarrassment that was quelling up inside Desna turned to guilt, and remorse. Such ignoble actions were hardly worthy of someone of his status, and it… It felt disgusting to be responsible for someone's injury —- to be guarded so willingly. Desna had hardly known Bolin for more than a week before he decided to challenge him (a grand scheme he had thought of for a few days that possessed an itching need to be be done).

Why was he so quick to rush into this? Why did he feel the need to interact with Bolin, when had gone the majority of his life dejected from those around him? And these pitiable feelings of guilt, and sadness…

Desna's thoughts were shaken with a jesting tone that rang in his ears, sweetly. "A-Are… Are you okay? Ya' gotta be careful, y'know…?" It was carefree, like singing.

Desna almost broke into a smile, but something wet dotted his forehead. He still pinned underneath the larger, bleeding male. This peasant had bled on him!

"Get off of me. You're bleeding profusely." He scowled, the previous elation he felt replaced with disgust, and sympathy, and worry. Bolin obliged, laughing weakly. Too weakly. He felt light, and pulled himself off of Desna, standing rather woozily —- the blood continued to spill from a light gash. Desna reacted quickly, surprising himself yet again; he grabbed Bolin's hand for leverage, lifting himself up and —-

He held onto his arm tightly. "T-Thank you… I'll help you treat that wound… It's my fault…" His tone was somber, and his face turned. Bolin's free hand connected with Desna's face, brushing some of his hair out of the way. Desna turned, his heart pounding in his chest erratically; he didn't want to break this distance, nor pull away. He faced Bolin, looking into his eyes, unable to control a rather ferocious, albeit default and harmless glare. He challenged Bolin yet again, daring him to touch him. He stared right into that blushing face, drilling holes with his characteristically cold eyes.

Instead, Bolin spoke. "You're… Prettier than a girl sometimes. R-Really, you should look into that…" He stammered nervously, possibly digging for compliments. Did he think that was what Desna wanted to hear? Desna attributed it to his innate stupidity, and the blood loss. He walked, leading Bolin away somewhere less slippery, and didn't dare address what was said —- But Bolin pressed on.

"Really… I-I think you're probably the prettiest person I've s-seen…" Bolin scratched his head nervously. "I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't really find an excuse.. So, I was glad when you challenged me… I didn't mean for any of this to happen, though… You almost got hurt." Desna grimaced, his frown deepening. He burrowed closer into Bolin's arm and body, hoping to provide warmth from his cloak. He definitely felt personally responsible, selfish even.

They continued to move through the snow, finally arriving at Desna's family's property. In order to avoid a scene, he purposely went through the back —- Once they were inside, and alone, Desna released Bolin, sitting him down. They were face to face, and it was apparent now that Desna had been frowning so tightly in the cold, he had bitten his lip.

"Don't frown so much. I won, so… You gotta smile for m-me…" Bolin extended a finger to Desna's mouth, dabbing the blood lightly —- and almost instinctively, Desna pursed his lips, sucking on the finger and then quickly pulling away after realizing what had been done. His tanned face turned red, as did Bolin's, and the silence clung to the room for a good minute.

"Let's try that again. After you heal me, of course!" Life seemed to surge back into Bolin. And almost all of it seemed to be drained out of Desna, who was so mortified all he could do was nod.


End file.
